Fury Will Not Die
by Veronika Green
Summary: Fiyeraba bookverse. With hands like these, your days are numbered. I will not fall away.
1. Promise

**AN -- **_Well, well, it's been a while, 'eh? Sorry, dudes, my computer's been sick, and my loverly beta has run off to some smart kid place and there is no one around to keep my cursing to a minimum. I'll try and stick to this storythinger, though I can't make any promises -- I've never been too good at keeping up with things..._

**AN2 -- **_I'm thinking about redoing Under the Moonlight, like, majorly. I'm just wondering if anyone would bother to read the changes...So let me know, k?_

**Disclaimer -- **_Wicked's not mine, blah blah blah, and I used some lyrics from Knights of the Abyss' song, 'Megabrain', which is pretty much the main...morbid inspiration. It's not like anyone knows who they are, but they still deserve credit, right? Right._

In the years since the Wizard's sudden departure, the Land of Oz had sunken into a deeper pit than ever before. Poverty had started to line the streets almost three years ago, two years after the Wizard had left. Elphaba watched people in rags -- beggar attire -- walk the streets. She avoided the gilded streets most of the time; the stenches of sadness and death were the heaviest there and she couldn't stand it.

Elphaba found Oz's economic slump quite laughable, really. She thought that maybe the Wonderful Wizard had planned it like this all along. Maybe he knew what was going to happen when he left his precious land. Maybe he didn't care. But then again, maybe neither did she.

She dared only to light a single candle that night, just as the distressed wives of soldiers did. Not being able to set the hot burning wax on the window still, as was the custom, Elphaba set it on her small kitchen table and said nothing; she had no one to pray for. But she it fit to honor the soldiers who were fighting for the despicable country. How naïve they were.

Crashes could be heard far off in the distance. A rebellion was taking place. And Elphaba couldn't say that she discouraged it. The new _Emperor _of Oz was a weakling, a selfish, pious fraud. And she knew for a fact that she wasn't the only one who thought that.

A shot rang out into the night, and screams followed. Elphaba felt herself grimace. A crime was to take place that night, as they had so frequently at the beginning of the Serkan Rebellion. What could she do, other than stand back and watch this hell? Elphaba Thropp could do nothing. And why should she? Oz was her enemy. The people of this 'fine' country had been her real murderers, over time.

She was not afraid, even though she could sense the trepidation in the summer air. Others were afraid for their lives -- even though Elphaba couldn't understand it. What did they have? Nothing. Just as she had been nothing, they had nothing. _They _were nothing. She supposed that war brought out the coward in everyone, nay, Elphaba.

The night was a long one. Elphaba didn't get any sleep. When others had fled, Elphaba's pride kept her in the Emerald City, and even though it was less than grandiose, something -- her intuition? -- told her to stay.

Lightning split the sky, and Elphaba jumped, surprised. This was suicide, she realized. But who really cared? She was dead. She was dead. She was _dead_. There was no one to mourn her, no one would even know she was dead. She would be just another unfortunate civilian lost in the ash and rubble.

The cries stopped. Silence, sweet silence. It was over for now, thought Elphaba. The Serkans had quit for now. Tomorrow, though, the fighting would resume, thought Elphaba. "Oh, Elphaba, you better pack your shit up," she said, laughing at her own daftness, even thought she made no attempt to move.

The shock finally settled in. What the _hell _was wrong with her? The Wizard had murdered precious Fiyero, the little whore Dorothy had 'killed' her, and yet she still had the nerve to show up here? As she came upon this revelation, a terrible crash split the quietness of the night -- and it wasn't thunder. Elphaba shivered. She was sure that they were bombs, and they crashed throughout the night until the rain started to pour down over the city.

Elphaba laughed. It had been over a month since rain had fallen over this city of pity. And just when everyone was going to face the end, the rain falls. Shaking her head, Elphaba grabbed her candle off the table where it was still burning. She covered it with her hands, her face illuminated in the otherwise dark room. She begged the fire to give her the strength she needed to survive this.

In the morning, there was silence. Maybe people had come to terms with the thought of death, maybe they hadn't. She hoisted herself up, ignoring the fiery pains in her legs and abdomen. Elphaba had stayed in one position all night, and she wasn't surprised when her ligaments didn't move at her will.

A fine coat of dust covered the streets. Many buildings stood exactly as they had twelve hours ago, others had collapsed to the ground in a pile of debris. Elphaba sighed. For years, this was the only place that she felt she could get away from the rest of Oz; this was her place to remember…and regret.

Elphaba wondered if maybe she was the only one left alive in the Emerald City. Wouldn't that be nice? She smirked at the prospect. But no, people flocked from where they had hidden and into the streets. They were few in numbers, but there nevertheless. She grunted, showing her disappointment.

People lined the streets, staring at the rubble. The terror showed in their eyes, revealing that the 'genocide' was not yet over. Elphaba sighed and blew the out the candle; the wax had been dripping on her hands. She stared at them for a minute, analyzing their ugly green color, their thinness. "With these hands, your days are numbered," she muttered to herself.

"Everyone's days are numbered."

Elphaba whirled around -- in her reverie, she hadn't realize that anyone had snuck into her flat. Did her eyes betray? Flashing before her cruel images of the past? She blinked, just to be sure. It was real. _He_ was real. "What are you doing here? You're dead."

Fiyero smiled. "So are you, Fae." He fiddled with the rotting wood of the wall next him for a moment, then he spoke, "I knew I'd find you here, some how."

And it seemed that Elphaba's life only got better after her death. What irony. Even now, Elphaba wasn't sure if she completely understood Fate. She had never seen the point in changing it, it would always be the same through-and-through. Hers had been decided for her the day she had been born. But now, she must have escaped it, while Fate wasn't looking, she was stealing another breath. "Where…? How….? Why….?" Usually so clearheaded, Elphaba was unsure of what she meant to say.

"It doesn't matter, Fae-Fae," he murmured. The pain in his eyes made it clear to her that he suffered, and he had endured it all for a reason. Elphaba smiled at the prospect that she was the reason. "How did you manage, though, Fae? I was disturbed when I learned that you had died. But then, I managed to pick up more of the details…It didn't fit. You wouldn't have done anything that…that…_stupid_. I'm glad that I followed my instinct."

"For once?" inquired Elphaba.

"Now, now, don't mock."

She went to him, and wrapped her arms around him -- unusually eager for him to hold her. She had wanted him for too long. He had been right, too: Elphaba would never have done anything that incredibly stupid. Maybe, in the back of her mind, Elphaba knew he was alive, too. Maybe that's why she dared to live on. Maybe that was why she had come here, in hopes of finding her one true love. "I think I knew, too, Yero my hero," she murmured in his ear.

"Of course you did. Why else would you have come back here?" Fiyero motioned around at the old corn exchange. It needed…some work. He pressed his lips to her, not reserving anything. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. There were no white feathers that day.

They made love on the floor, beneath the windows. Elphaba didn't care about how much he saw of her. In fact, she wanted him to see all of her. "Yero my hero," Elphaba cried out as she had done so often these past five years, except this time, there was a totally different reason for her outburst.

"I love you," he mumbled tiredly into her ebony hair. They fell asleep together, bodies entwined with each other tightly, not willing to let the other go inches from them.

Later, when they she had been in a deep, coma-like sleep for hours, Fiyero nudged Elphaba awake. She smiled at him, still entranced by his blue diamonds, still unable to believe that this was reality. "Morning?"

"No, Fae, it's the afternoon now," replied Fiyero, chuckling a bit.

"Alright then, good afternoon," she corrected.

"You, too."

"How long have we been out?" Elphaba inquired, curious as to what time it was. She hadn't gotten a full night's rest in a long while, and she expected that she had been sleeping for a quite a long while.

"Not that long, actually. A couple hours or so. Of course, you've been sleeping longer than I…"

"You are so strange," she said, rolling away from him and sitting up. The dust in the air still hadn't settled. "Now, Yero, you've gotten your reward now--"

"Reward? Reward for what?"

Elphaba gently smacked his face, "You know what I meant. So, now that you've had your reward, I want _mine_."

"Yours? Fine."

"I want to know all about this -- the Serkans, the fighting, everything. I've been out of the loop for a quite a while." Elphaba thought for a moment. "Actually, I don't think I've ever been in the loop, so let's start at the beginning. Sound simple enough? Staying in this rotting wood pile of larvae for hours hasn't been easy. I want to know about what's happening out there," she finished, pointing outside.

Fiyero sighed. "I'll do the best I can, even though I don't know much."

"You're lying. You know a lot, Fiyero. I can see it in your eyes."

"Where do you get off calling me a liar?" he demanded, a little more harshly than he intended.

Elphaba grabbed his wrist. "You lie. I point it out. I want to know everything you know. I'm here, right where the fighting is taking place. Do you think that I want to uninformed? No. I want to be able to stay alive. Now that…" She let go of his wrist and turned away, knowing from the harshness in his voice that he was really lying.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. Alright. I honestly don't know how it started, really, except that some man by the name of Serkan was shot in a marketplace when he was caught stealing one more vegetable than he was allowed. He was killed, and--"

"What? What does…Argh! Go on."

Fiyero shook his head and continued. "I guess that people didn't like the way he had been treated--"

"Like hell. It's a _damn_ vegetable. I mean, I know that there's been an agriculture in everywhere within Ozian borders and the only place that produce comes in is from Quok….But still. It's _Emperor Argo's _fault, he was the one who--"

"Made all of those high-production farms illegal. I know." He placed his hand on hers. "Are you going to continue to rant, or should I go on?" Elphaba only grunted and Fiyero went on. "Those people formed an organization…And the people who were outside your window were those people. I think that they think that Argo was the one who ordered Serkan to be murdered so violently. Now they want to kill him."

"And so do I. I hate the Wizard with all of the boiling blood in my veins, but at least he was able to appease this damned country. Argo is nothing but a sissy. He deserves to be beheaded at his next 'court meeting'. I mean this sarcastically, by the way, because I think that they sit around picking lice off their backs and eating them like a bunch of Apes. Oh, excuse me, _apes_, since the recent genocides," she muttered, fierceness lacing her voice.

Fiyero had almost forgotten that that was what Elphaba had always worked so hard to prevent. He took her hand, trying to comfort her, knowing that that was what was running through her mind at this precise moment.

"I failed so miserably, Fiyero," she said softly. "Me, I _failed_. And I tried so hard, Yero….I just don't understand."

"Don't give up just yet, Fae-Fae, it's not over yet. There are still Animals who got away, who are running freely. I'm sure that--"

"Fiyero! You forget that I'm dead. And with this war…" A scheming look came across Elphaba's brow. "And with this war, another green girl is just what Oz needs."

"Fae, no. Please don't," Fiyero pleaded with her.

She sighed. "I was only kidding, Yero. You really think that I would put myself in that position again? No. You know me better than that. The happiest day of my life was the day that I died. I'm not about to go about boasting of a resurrection."

"With hands like these, your days are numbered," Fiyero muttered.

"Exactly. I will not fall away. Not yet."

Fiyero wrapped his arms around her, but she pulled away. "No."

Just like that, the romantic mood had been ruined. Fiyero only nodded and let her move away from him. "It's going to start again soon. The fighting, that is. I can feel it in the air. Do you have anywhere else to go?" she asked, turning to him.

"Yes," he murmured.

"Here?"

Fiyero nodded.

"Amazing," she muttered. "I'm surprised any liveable spaces survived."

"That's not what they're going for," replied Fiyero.

"And how would you know this?" she asked, turning on him. "What are they going for? Blowing this pathetic city up isn't going to solve anything. And that's coming from me. Oh, what the hell -- Are they even going to attempt to overthrow Argo? Anything would be better than the hell I've watched; even a poor Communist dictator."

"They're proving--"

"Proving what? That they can blow stuff up? Big accomplishment. It's nothing but another headache. Oh, dear, and a big one at that." Elphaba threw herself down onto Fiyero, rubbing her aching temples. He kissed her forehead and pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Stay with me?" she asked tiredly.

"If you want me to."

"I do," she murmered, turning into his chest.

"Good. Because I was going to stay whether you wanted me here or not. But, Fae, it's not safe here. You of all people should know that. Please, come with me."

"Go with you where, Fiyero? You're homeless just as well as I am. We have no money, we have no food, we have no name. We are nothing," she replied, sitting up. _I am nothing, I am nothing, I am _nothing_. Maybe Melena was right about that. She was never right about anything else, so why this time? No, she was. I am nothing but a hindrance. A disfigurement to Oz; like we need another one of those. _

"Don't say that. You know it's not true. And look, Kiamo Ko should be still standing. I doubt a little splash of water hurt it."

Elphaba looked away. "Sarima--"

Fiyero took her hand. "I know. They're gone."

"I'm sorry, Yero," she murmured. "Please don't blame me, though, everyone else did, and I don't think that I can stand you, of all people, hating me. Even though you have every right to."

"Why would I blame you?"

A small smile tugged at Elphaba's lips, then it faded. _Liir_. No. She could never let Fiyero know about Liir. Well, in all truth, Elphaba wasn't even sure if Fiyero would care. After all, Elphaba wasn't even really sure that he was even her son.

_(he is and you know it Elphaba stop fooling yourself)_

So why the hell was she getting so flustered? She rose from her position on the floor. "I can't. I just can't, Fiyero."

"Well, why the hell not?" he demanded, raising his voice ever so slightly.

She didn't turn to face him. "I just _can't_."

"But you can't stay here, either, can you? You'll get killed."

"Yes, well," she said, "I'm beginning to wonder if maybe that isn't such a bad idea after all."

"Oh, don't get pseudo suicidal on me, _Elphaba. _You don't want to die and you know it. Why else would you have convinced the whole of Oz you were dead? So you could rot in peace? I think not. Something is keeping you alive, Fae," he concluded, softening. "You'll be safe at Kiamo Ko. _We'll _be safe at Kiamo Ko."

"You go, and you have fun." _Oh, what fun he'll have. _"Let me alone to rot in peace."

"You're being ridiculous," Fiyero said after a moment of nothing.

Elphaba sighed inwardly. "I know." _Oh, look at that, little Elphaba-Elphie-Fabala-Fae can admit when she's wrong, now can she? It's a bitter sweet accomplishment, dear one. _She shook her head, trying to rid herself of her conscience.

Fiyero was surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, really." She was surprised herself. "I just…I don't want to go back to Kiamo Ko, is all."

Fiyero didn't believe that that was her only reason. _Why is she lying to me now? We're dead, for Oz's sake -- Oh, boy, that was a loaded statement -- there is nothing to hide when one is dead to the world. Right? Right. Of course it's right. I can understand that she doesn't want to go back to Kiamo Ko, for sure, but there's something more…I just wish I knew what. _"Only reason?" he asked cautiously.

Suspicion washed over Elphaba's body like a wave. "Yes. Why?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Just thought I'd ask," he quickly covered up. "Listen, I've got a friend -- a purebred killing machine, he's waited his whole damn life for this. He has a place in the Vinkus, too, near Kiamo Ko." He held his breath.

_Near Kiamo Ko…But _not_ Kiamo Ko? Is that any better? What a fool you are, Fiyero….No. Stop. He's trying to help. Get over yourself for a minute, Elphaba. It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. How the hell do you even know that Liir and Nanny are even still there, alive? I could never picture Liir becoming older._ Oh, wow. She was cruel, and she was almost surprised.

"How near?"

Fiyero smiled. "You're coming, are you? Because if not--"

Elphaba sighed. "I'm coming. So long as I don't have to step foot in Kiamo Ko; or go anywhere near it, for that matter.

Fiyero smiled. "You won't."

"Promise," Elphaba said, trying to hide a smile.

Fiyero wrapped his arms around Elphaba and smoothed her hair back. He loved her hair…the smell of coconuts and the spices that must have somehow worked its way in, the silky sheen…He sighed. "Promise."

Reviews, pwease :-)


	2. Dreams

_**A/N -** It's been hot. I got sick again. My sister's been a whore...blah blah blah. All the usual pathetic excuses. But ah-ha! I'm back. And I don't quite know where this is going..._

_**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Duh. And I quoted Gene Pitney, too. Brownie points to anyone who can find where! _

_A million words, a thousand days…._

How long had he been here? He wasn't sure he wanted to know -- he would only be devastated by the answer. What had become of his wife? his kids? Elphaba? Fiyero's thoughts were disturbed as a wave of painful nausea seared through his stomach. He estimated that it had been near three days since he had had a lick of food. Actually, now that he thought about it, it had been nearly that long since he'd seen any living soul at all.

It was quiet here now. The room was too dark to see, so Fiyero wasn't sure if the prison had other inhabitants. He wasn't even sure if he cared. He'd been here for so long, he couldn't even tell if he still had his eyesight or whether he would be completely blind. The only thing the 'prince' knew was the smell of rotting flesh and molding gruel. This was prison. This was _life_.

Candles were lit down the way, and Fiyero groaned as purple spots clouded his vision. He heard his cell door clang open and a pair of rough hands grabbed Fiyero's shoulders. He tried to resist, of course, through reflex, but he was too weak….

As always, he woke as he was just being pushed out into the aisle between the lines of cells. His eyes opened wide, once again filled with tears. It was a strange feeling, waking up and having tears staining his face. It had never happened before -- at least, not before he had been to prison.

Fiyero could never remember what happened after that. Maybe it was a blessing, maybe it was something that would come back to haunt him, like it was doing now. He had blacked out, and a secret part of him, in the depths of his mind, he wanted to know. He had never known what it was like to wake up, crying for no reason, not able to remember something that may just be his lifeline. Why did everything in Oz have to be so fucked up?

Looking around, he again realized where he was. He smiled. He was with Elphaba. Fiyero clutched her thin frame against him, wanting the warmth of her body pressed against his. He breathed her scent in, realizing that he was safe now. It was almost hard to believe that his life could change so quick. It was always her who did it, too. Always her.

She groaned and stretched like a cat. "Go back to sleep, Yero," she murmured. "It's too damn early." Elphaba rolled over, but then rolled back, curling back up into Fiyero's arms. "This feels nice, though."

"I know," he said tiredly.

"How come you're so tired? We've slept at least half the day."

"This coming from the woman who told me that it was too damn early and to go back to bed," Fiyero replied, laughing. "But really, I keep having incredibly strange dreams. Nightmares, maybe. How do we even tell the difference?"

"Nightmares are terrifying dreams; dreams in which our worst fears are brought to life in fully convincing detail. Whatever horrors you personally believe to be the worst things that could happen—these are the most likely subjects of your nightmares. All people, in every age and culture have suffered from these terrors of the night. People's understanding of the origins of nightmares has varied as much as their understanding of dreams. To some cultures, nightmares were the true experiences of the soul as it wandered another world as the body slept. To others, they were the result of the visitation of demons. Of course, Fiyero," replied Elphaba, matter-of-factly.

Fiyero groaned and threw his head down. "And what makes you the master of dreams, Fae? Hmm?"

"I used to study them a lot, Yero. I studied philosophy, politics, and everything else. Why not psychology and dreams, too?" Elphaba replied, sitting up. "Tell me about it. I want to psychoanalyze it."

"How old are we?" he asked uncomfortably. "You're acting like an eighteen-year-old. Really."

"Oh, no I'm not. I'm naked, remember?" She blushed and went to cover herself up.

Same old Elphaba. Afraid to show herself in front of him. He almost didn't understand her discomfort. He loved her, and she thought she was beautiful -- no matter what she or anyone else said. She was Elphaba and that was all that really mattered to him. He was disappointed that she still didn't trust him enough.

"So, tell me. Come on. I want to know."

He groaned. He didn't want to tell her. Because then she'd ask about prison. And about how he escaped. She'd wanted to know earlier, she'd want to know now. "Elphaba, please--"

"What? You don't trust me enough? Look, Yero my hero, you're an idiot and I love you, but you're incredibly difficult to deal with at times. Times like these, actually. You're calling me immature, but you don't want to tell me your nightmare slash dream? What, were you being chased by a cupcake or some other exceedingly terrifying baked good?"

There was a moment of silence, and Elphaba bit her lip. "It's funny how that now, after I'm dead, I can admit that I overreact, that I'm too demanding. You know, if you think about it, we have it all. I have no reason to be demanding. It's pathetic that now I can do and say things that I never could when I was alive. What a fool I am. I'm so incredibly different now…." she looked away.

"I know." Fiyero pulled her into him.

Elphaba didn't answer him. Whether she hadn't heard him, lost in her own thoughts, or maybe she had no answer.

"When do we leave?" she asked after a moment, quietly. "I've never realized how much I've needed to get out of this shit-hole. Well, everyone needs to get out of this shit-hole -- it has negative moral value."

"That's incredibly kind of you to say so, Fae-Fae."

"Fiyero, are you going to tell me, or not?"

"Tell you what?" He was only playing dumb now.

She glared at him. "You know." Then softer, "Nightmares are always caused by something, whether you know it or not. People experience nightmares after they have suffered a traumatic event, Yero my hero…" Elphaba let the sentence hang in the air.

"I know that, Elphaba. Fine. You really want to know?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

"Yes. Alright then. I keep…remembering. Remembering…prison. Through dreams, or nightmares, or whatever! I'm always sitting in this…prison cell. I'm always hungry, and I can always smell the stench of rotting flesh and the molding 'food' we had. I keep asking myself all of these questions, I'm going crazy or something, and then these candles are lit and somebody roughly grabs me and pushes me out into the hall. And then….I don't remember anymore. I guess I blacked out. But when I don't wake up at the part, I'm always back where I started. Hungry, alone, and completely _confused_." He paused. "I want to remember. I _need_ to remember."

"Why would you want to?" Elphaba asked quietly.

"I don't know why! That's the problem!" Fiyero quickly pulled on his clothes and walked over to the big window. Looking out, he sighed. "I need out of here, too. It's amazing what Oz can do to you."

"Oh, how kind of you to say so."

"You said it yourself: it does stuff to people. Just look at the Wizard--"

Elphaba cut him off. "I can't, he's gone. _Remember_?"

Fiyero looked at her. "Oh, thanks for that news flash. But, what I meant was: he must've been normalish when he first came here, right? Well, right. But I'll be damned if he's not dead by now. Probably a morphine addict or something. Pain killers for the pain causers. That's the way it works," he concluded.

"Karma doesn't exist. Never has. It's just a sick joke played on all of us weirdos. Well, weirdos like me anyway."

"Tonight," Fiyero said, suddenly.

"Tonight, what?"

"Tonight we leave! Of course, Fae-Fae."

"Why can't we just pack our shit up and leave now? I don't even have that much shit. I could be packed in five minutes. Tops." Elphaba smiled weakly, then frowned. "Ew."

"We can't leave now, it's broad daylight. We'll be beheaded and eaten by a bunch of barbarians."

Elphaba went and stood next to Fiyero, trying to study what he was studying. "As if we aren't walking contradictions enough. Damn." Elphaba turned around and looked around her makeshift kitchen. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No," Fiyero muttered.

"Good, because I don't have any food."

He gave her a funny look. "Then why'd you ask?"

Elphaba shrugged. "I didn't want to be rude." She gave a funny look around. "I don't want to be rude? What the hell is that about?"

"I have no idea, but it's strange. Stop it."

"Don't worry about that, Fiyero. But--"

"But, what?"

"Yero…..What happened while you were supposedly dead? I want to know. I need to know."

"I knew you'd ask. I just knew you would."

"Then why'd you try to hide it?" she asked.

"I don't know. A vain attempt to hide it from myself. It's just…Argh, I don't know. Look, it was no accident….The Gale Force wanted you, no doubt, but I got in their way, I think. I don't think they were planning on finding me -- much less anyone else -- there. I don't think they wanted to kill me. Even when the Wiz's superiority complex, killing me would have been a crime. I don't quite remember what happened then, really, except for an excruciating headache and…blood. I woke up in a cell."

"They didn't want to kill you? I would've expected him to kill you the moment he found out about…Oh, never mind. Go on." Elphaba waved him on.

"It was like….being in a coma. I can very little of my life there. It's nothing but a daze -- or maybe that's just what it feels like after a million days of sitting in a dark cell and wondering whether or not you'll 'eat' that day. It's tiresome after a while, so maybe I blocked it out of my mind…."

"Well, remember!" Elphaba cried.

Fiyero closed his eyes and thought. This time, though, he wanted to remember.

A door slammed at the end of the hall and Fiyero's body tensed up. It was always hard to tell what would be coming. He only hoped it wasn't a whipping again. He ran his fingers lightly over his back, his tender skin tingling and burning at his touch. Anything but a whipping.

It wasn't a whipping. Fiyero heard the cell door next to his creak open, and a thump as something hit one of the walls…and then a groan. A groan! So he _wasn't _alone. Candles hadn't been lit, so he couldn't tell for sure whether it was a man or woman, but the soft, muffling crying sounds made it seem like a woman. Either that or Fiyero was just sexually deprived.

Standing, Fiyero could feel his muscles protest and heard his bones crack into their predetermined shape. "Hello," he said. "Is anyone there?"

"Yes," came a muffled, pitiful voice. A woman's voice.

"Finally."

"Oh, finally, maybe," the woman said, her voice raising with anger, "but not for long."

"Not for long? You're really going to attempt to break out of here?" Fiyero laughed, his voice cracking, too. "That's a daft idea, lady. I can't tell you how many people I've heard being murdered here. There's surveillance everywhere."

"I don't need you telling me whether my ideas are wise or not. I'm here, aren't I? I might as well be dead. Agreed?" she asked.

Fiyero thought a moment, then reluctantly said, "Agreed."

He could feel her smiling. _I can feel her smiling? What the fuck? It's true, though! She's smiling. I don't like her smiling. But she's right. I'd rather be dead than spend another day in this hell. Or would I? Elphaba may already be dead, you dot! But what if she isn't? What if she's waiting for you? Elphaba waits for no one! _Fiyero shook his head, trying to stop his mental arguing.

"How long you been here, hun? I'll count you as a alumni if ya been here long enough."

She was still smiling.

"I have no idea, lady. It's dark. There's no sun."

"Oh, come now, don't tell me that your internal clock has gone all screwy. Ya can't be but so old."

Fiyero's frowned deepend. "I don't even know how old I am."

The woman in the next to his sounded surprised. "That long, huh? Such a pity."

"You're telling me? I don't need your pity," Fiyero scoffed.

"Oh, you don't? When these little minds tear you in two, what a town without pity can do," she stated.

"Maybe so. But it's too late for pity. At least for me."

"Nah, it's never too late for pity. You, sonny, just count on my as your way out."

He could feel her smiling again -- it was a chilling feeling that started in his teeth and went all the way down to his feet. Fiyero wanted to trust her; mainly because he wanted out, he wanted out so badly, but she didn't sound like….Oh, hell, who was he kidding? Take everything you can get, trust no one to get it for you. He was going to find a way out. With her help or not…..

Fiyero opened his eyes when Elphaba laid her hand on his shoulder. "You alright?" she asked. "You look kind of pale. Which is weird."

"I'm fine. Really. I'm fine," he said, more of an assurance to himself than her.

"You sure? I may still have some hard liquor in the cabinet…" she offered.

"I'm fine."

Fiyero looked off into the distance, towards to palace, where he had been kept in incarceration. He sighed. He needed out, even more so than Elphaba. It was almost unhealthy to stay here. He didn't want to do anymore remembering. He didn't want anymore dreams.

_I like thirteen reviews. Let's stick with that, please._


	3. Reality

_**A/N-** ::laughs uneasily:: hah, hey, guys...I wasn't murdered or anything...I've been inspired to finish this. I think. But we'll see...It's not so good, but give me a break, k? Or..you don't have to. It's cool._

He stared out the big foggy window as the sun slowly set. This was the last he would ever sit here -- he hoped -- The Emerald City was no good. It was a damned city, doomed to sit here and rot slowly into a ghost town. Of course, that was only if it survived the rebellions and fighting.

"Are you serious about leaving tonight, Fiyero?" came Elphaba's voice from behind him.

He heard her nails slowly clicking on the table behind him. Everything that may or may not happen in her life depended on him, and only him, now. She had give up everything from her old life, and she was willing to sacrifice everything else just to keep herself secluded. Except for him. Fiyero was sure that after losing him once, Elphaba wouldn't let him go a second time. "I'm serious," he said, standing up. "We're leaving tonight. Pack only the necessities. Leave everything else behind."

Elphaba let out a heavy breath and walked to him. "What will we do when we're out….there? Just because it's dark doesn't we'll be safe."

Fiyero looked at her, trying to look through her eyes and into her mind. He saw no fear in her beautiful eyes, only apprehension. "No, but it's safer than daylight. We'll do the only thing we can: run." He turned to her and smiled softly. "Do you still have your infamous broom?" If she did, all of their prayers may have been answered.

"No. We won't use it," she said bluntly.

Out of pure understanding, he asked no questions, he only remarked, "It would be faster," before walking away from her.

"I know, but…I won't try and change your mind, Yero, but I refuse to ride that thing ever again. It only brought bad times upon me, and…It's evil, that's all," she finished, slightly flustered.

Fiyero furrowed his brow. He had never seen Elphaba do anything like that. Fiyero remembered almost every time he had been with Elphaba, and he had never seen _her _flustered before. All his remembrance of her was unscathed…

_She wasn't really beautiful…not really. But she was the only thing that he saw. The only thing he cared about, and she was beautiful. She was so graceful, and cool -- she drove him crazy. She always would. It didn't matter if he died in here. It didn't matter if she were really dead. She was just as clear in his mind as the last time he saw her. He loved her, and always would._

_What would become of him? For the first time he really pondered it, and found he didn't care. He sat in a dirty rotten cell all day. All night. All good things came to an end, but he was lead to purgatory. He would only wait for the new moon, hoping he would die soon. He only wanted her, for all of eternity….._

"What are you thinking?" she asked him, bringing him back to her.

"I was thinking…that…that…" he could only stutter. "Jail," he finished. It was simple and self-explanatory and she asked no more questions.

They both packed up Elphaba's few belongings without a word. There was nothing to be said between them, vocally. Even if they did speak, their voices would in no way express what they could say between eyes.

Packing was finished early. The sun had just set when they had let their weary legs and backs rest.

"This would be easier with the broom…."

"Stop it." She didn't dare tell him the truth. Elphaba could not have been considered to be stupid. She would have used the broom in a heartbeat, bad memories or not. The truth was that she didn't have. It had disappeared. It was her notion that Liir had it. How could she just tell Fiyero that someone else had it? He would ask questions: Who? How? When? And now was not the time she wanted to bring up Liir. She _never _wanted to bring up Liir again.

Fiyero smiled meekly. "It's too early now, I think. Wait for the town to stop its sleeping and wake up. That way they'll be too distracted to notice anyone other than themselves. But I know what we can do in the meantime."

"You're a disgusting pig, do you realize that? Do you?" she asked him.

He only smiled before grabbing her.

She later dozed off in his arms, and he let her sleep. The moonlight had begun to flood the room in its monochromatic glow. Fiyero sighed and blinked sleepily before laying his head down on the floor and staring at the ceiling. _You claim to be freed, you see the change in things. So, isn't it strange that you're just the same? _"I have to break this," he muttered, to no one in particular. "Wake up," he said, softly to Elphaba.

She didn't stir.

"Wake up." Fiyero grabbed her shoulder and shook her lightly. She moaned and stretched. "Come on, Fae. It's time."

Elphaba opened her eyes wide, the light of the moon shining deep into her pools of brown. Her eyes were hardened. Fiyero would never know what she was thinking, and he it suddenly dawned on him that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Fiyero suddenly had the notion to lean in and kiss her, and he did.

She smiled and covered herself in her dress, quickly pulled it over her head. Elphaba stood and observed the small space she had called her home, _Hopefully for the last time…_

"Come on, Elphaba, are you coming?" he asked softly. Fiyero realized that he had not called her to Elphaba in years. It was always Fae.

"There's no reason why not. Strike whilst the knife is hot." She grabbed everything she called hers and left without so much as another look behind her. Elphaba was not going to sit on her ass anymore, wishing for better days. _Make it a reality._

"Make it a reality," Fiyero said from behind her, drowsily and innocently.

_I don't know what I want. How can I take my dreams, myself, and liberate them, when I'm indecisive? My mountain of red anger is no longer dormant. All that I thought I had buried long ago is back. And I can't ignore it. All of this -- this is what I fought against for so long. This feeling is no longer _just _a feeling -- My ignorance of years ago is just a haze. _"Make it a reality," she whispered under her breath. _I don't like reality. It's all too clear to me._

They were there and the sour smells of the city bore down on them; the smells of death. Very few live people were visible, bodies lined the streets in a gruesome array of paganism. "A sick way to be religious," muttered Fiyero with disgust. Overturned carts, dead animals, and molding food also lay in the street, and Elphaba watched as rats scampered across the dirty gold road -- a regular party. She shook her head. Things were worse than either of them could have ever imagined.

Fiyero grabbed Elphaba's hand and began to run. "What the…?"

"We don't have all that much time, Elphaba. We won't make it anywhere on foot. Just trust me, alright? I know what I'm doing."

But did he really? This wasn't his twisted idea of twisted fun, this was their life - their only chance to escape the purgatory of the Emerald City. Fiyero turned his head toward the depths of the city and saw that emerald building. Once so beautiful and promising, he could only regard it with hate now. It loomed over them, as if watching their every move. Fiyero felt a knot in his stomach.

"Fiyero!" Elphaba planted her feet and Fiyero tripped over his own legs. "How far can we go before we admit that we have problem that we can't fix?" she asked him, her cheeks rosy, her chest rising quickly.

"Look," he said, standing and rubbing dirt from his knees. "If I remember correctly, there's a stable near here."

"Horses? Are you _kidding_ me?" Elphaba shook her head. "There's a little concept called 'Strength in Numbers.' There's two of us. Alright? One. How are we _ever _going to make it across town --just the two of us, mind you-- without being killed? There's at least one thousand people dispersed around here. Two. Who's to say if that stable's still even there? And what if all the horses are dead?"

Of course, Elphaba made an excellent point. Fiyero didn't know the answer to any of the questions, he didn't need to. He only knew that his Vinkan intuition told him to do it, and he was going to trust it. Otherwise, they would never breakthrough. "Please, Elphaba, just trust me."

She nodded and took his hand again. Fiyero took a path off the road, an old park, he figured. It was disgusting. _It was offensive. _Branches scratched at their tender cheeks, breaking skin and making them bleed. If there had been no pain, Fiyero would have guessed that they were in a dream. But it was all real. It was there: blood, sweat, and fears. This was reality if nothing else was.

_This was real. _Fiyero felt extremely free at the present moment, even slightly aroused. He allowed himself a little smile as they ran. They were taking full control.

Then Elphaba tripped, and caused a chain reaction. Fiyero fell to his face and felt something in him crack. He gasped for air beneath the monochromatic beauty of the full moon -- full of promises, full of deceit. Fiyero was watching the waves of his consciousness recede as he felt something cold and metallic slam against his wrists, and Elphaba moaned…and then there was nothing.

_How bout ya review for meh? Please?_ _I'll give ya a cookie(:_


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